It Was Just An Illusion
by BethShadows
Summary: Warning: suicide and dark themes (including mental illness). It's been a few years since the Dragon and everything seemed to be perfect. But like every illusion of perfect, there are cracks and flaws leading to unthinkable situations.


I am back. With a new username. I only recently realised I hadn't actually updated anything in nearly a year so I decided I needed to get some serious editing and writing done. So here I am.

This story is dark. It contains themes of suicide and has an overall dark and grim feel hence I orignally had it as an M rating but I may put it back up

 _Word Count 861_

* * *

 **The Present**

"Talk me over what happened."

Mimmi shifted on the edge of the chair. It was a nice chair. Faux leather that sunk down when you sat on it. It had stitching around the seams. It was these stitches she ran her fingertips over back and forth. Feeling the little bumps and smooth lines of thread kept her grounded. Same as taking note of the broad horizontal stripes of the curtains and the windows which offered a never changing view over the city.

The woman sitting on the sleek black chair on the opposite side of the low table sat with the same spiral bound green notebook and the same black and silver pen as always. She had a kind face and her dark hair was always tied up off of that kind face in a neat bun. Her name was Alana something. Mimmi never remembered her last name. It was always just "Alana" she called her.

"Take your time." She had a light and reassuring voice with the same accent that Zac and Cam and the others had.

"Mum asked me to go see if," Mimmi stumbled over her words. She could hear how much her voice shook.

"You don't have to say her name. Not if you don't feel comfortable or most importantly - ready."

Mimmi inhaled shakily.

"Mum asked me to go see if, if she would be wanting dinner. She had gone for a bath so I went up to the bathroom. I tried the door and wasn't locked. I could hear water dripping. The tap was always leaky."

Mimmi paused and focused on her breathing. She felt her chest tighten.

"In for five . Out for five. In. Two. Three. Four. Five. And out. Two. Three. Four. Five. Focus on my voice and your breathing," Alana said.

Mimmi scrabbled her fingers on the seat to find the familiar stitching and focused on breathing in and out.

"Continue whenever you're ready."

In. Out. In. Out.

"I opened the door. The room felt cold. She was sitting up in the bath, leaning back against the slopping side. I decided to give her a fright to wake her up. She just looked like she had fallen asleep."

In. Out.

"Then when I got closer I saw how pale she was. Then I saw the blood. The slits on her arm."

Her vision blurred and her eyes stung. Alana handed her a tissue from the box on the table.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Mimmi wiped her eyes dry, not caring about the courseness of the tissue against the sensitive skin.

"What emotions were you feeling during all this?"

" I was scared. I think I started shouting and screaming. I shook her shoulder trying to wake her. She was so cold. I remember Mum came in. Zac and Cam were just behind her.

When Cam got her out the water she was still alive. He felt a pulse. She was still breathing. Still bleeding. Mum tried to stop the bleeding."

MimmI paused to blow her nose. Alana handed her another tissue.

"I should've tried to save her. I was there. She was still alive. Instead I panicked and she bleed out on the bathroom floor. The others were too late. But I was there. I was there and I did nothing. I could've done something."

"It wouldn't have made a difference. You need to remind yourself that it wasn't your fault, that she choose it. But you made sure she wasn't alone when she died. That is something."

" Why did she do it? "

"I can't answer that Mimmi. Did you find a note?"

Mimmi shook her head and wiped her eyes again.

"We are nearly out of time but for next week I want to you to write a letter to her with all the things you want to say to her. You can take it in with you or throw it away or burn it even. Just write it."

" Okay, " Mimmi said while nodding. She stood up, still holding her tissues.

"There's a bin just beside your chair there."

Mimmi dropped them in and walked over to the door with Alana.

"You will get through this Mimmi. Remember there are five stages of grief. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Just because you're stuck now, doesn't mean you always will be."

Alana opened the door to the waiting room with it's couches and chairs and magazine strewn table. One of the chairs was occupied by Cam who sat slouched on his phone.

He looked up at the sound the door.

"See you next week Mimmi." Alana said.

"Bye."

Mimmi stepped out into the waiting room as Cam got up.

"You good?"

Mimmi just nodded. She didn't understand how Cam seemed unaffected by what happened. After all he had been there. He had ended up with blood on him. Yet he was the same old Cam. She had asked Alana about it once and she had told Mimmi the same thing Nerissa and Zac had. People deal with grief in their own way.

And people make their own choices. And now someone was dead by their own choice.


End file.
